5 Times Zuko Gave a Vocabulary Lesson
by drinktea
Summary: The final lesson: He was not one to offer condolences, unless she found "get over it" or "I'll burn them for you" comforting. Oh, dear.
1. You're Keeping Me Down

Disclaimer: I do not own _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ or any of its affliated characters. All definitions herein provided by Franklin Electronic Publishers, Inc.

Warnings: language.

Teeny author's note: I would really appreciate reviews, since this is my first ATLA piece of fanfiction. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

-

**os-tra-cize** _(verb)_  
1. to exclude from a group by common consent  
2. to drive out; EXPEL

-

Zuko's burning was painful in every way to witness. From the delighted faces of Zhao and Azula to the shout_shriek_ that rang throughout the hall, Iroh found he could not stand one more second. The instant Fire Lord Ozai had turned his back on his son, Iroh left the assembled audience and hollered down the empty hallway for the doctor.

A mere hour after the Agni Kai, Iroh's feet led him to the infirmary.

"Iroh," doctor Zheng dipped his head in greeting. Iroh found that, even with nearly a century of war ongoing, doctors lived in a different world. A craftsman or soldier would've bowed deeply, but doctor Zheng saw only Iroh's concern. "Prince Zuko is awake. The first door on your left."

Iroh thanked the doctor, brushing past. The doctor smelt of bitter herbs.

Zuko's door was shut tightly.

"Zuko, please, let me in."

The only reply he received was a colourful string of curses.

Suddenly, Zheng was rushing to the door, easily finding one key on a ring of at least 20, and pushing it open. The door swung quickly on its hinges, and Iroh looked past the doctor's shoulder to catch sight of an enraged Zuko.

"Prince Zuko!" hollered Zheng, covering the space between the examining table and himself with impressive speed. He wrenched Zuko's hands from his face. "Stop. Immediately!"

"I'll burn you, doctor," said Zuko. Iroh's whole self lurched. Zuko's voice was deep and ragged, as if the flames had touched not only his face but his vocal chords. Where Iroh had heard determination and optimism in Zuko's voice, he now recognized raw hurt and anger. Iroh suspected his throat was dry and bleeding. It must've hurt like hell to speak. Iroh stood in the doorway and closed his eyes, collecting himself for a moment.

As far as Iroh could tell, doctor Zheng was not threatened. "Prince Zuko, you must not touch your wound. It will only slow the heal--"

"Get this damn bandage off of me," Zuko growled. His hands tried to find his face again.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh said softly, though it was all the more cutting, "It would do you good to listen to the doctor."

Zuko clenched his jaw. The vein running up his temple pulsed strongly beneath his bruised skin. He made a show of dropping his hands and breathed out angrily.

Zheng stepped aside, clearing the way for Iroh. He made a face. Iroh saw that face a lot when it came to his nephew.

"Just be glad he does not have the breath of fire," muttered Iroh. Zheng made the next most popular face in conjunction with Zuko's legendary stubbornness - rolling his eyes. Then he left, closing the door behind him.

"I don't need this bandage, uncle Iroh," Zuko rumbled. His voice was on its way to a croak.

Iroh reasoned with him. "But you do need the medication beneath it, Zuko. Medicine that stays in place helps to heal much better than medicine washed off by the elements."

Zuko stewed silently. His arms were crossed and his feet dangled inches above the floor. Iroh watched his features twist and settle. He looked younger and older in the same glance.

"Now, come, Prince Zuko. You can rest in your quarters." Iroh dared to take Zuko by the shoulder. Zuko went without complaint, his neck arching downward of its own accord.

After leaving the infirmary, Iroh walked beside his nephew in the direction of the royal family's quarters. He hoped Zuko could rest and have a blissfully dreamless sleep, but it was unlikely. He snuck a glance sideways. Something was brewing beneath his nephew's surface, and he was certain that it was a bitter mixture.

Upon turning the next corner, an impassive messenger came into view. Before they could take two steps, the messenger opened her mouth: "Prince Zuko, your banishment is effective immediately. Fire Lord Ozai has allowed a time limit of 24 hours for you to leave Fire Nation territory. You are to leave the palace within the hour." She bowed. "Please be on your way."

The line of Zuko's jaw tightened. He did not look up.

Iroh was taken aback. _Banishment?_ His brother was crueler than he'd ever known. But there was nothing he could do against the Fire Lord's orders. He turned towards his nephew.

Zuko's anger had already turned inward, it was easy to see. But being so fresh, Zuko's anger was also strong and shallow. He would release it soon. Iroh could see the massive force damming up behind his one good eye, shaking the shape of his mouth.

Even the messenger seemed to know. She began to run just as Zuko screamed so loud that the torches flared a sickening blue, then went out for good, taking his voice along with them.

-

Iroh got the story in full later on - that as soon as he had bolted from the duel, his brother Ozai told the whole room that his son had shown shameful weakness. That he was to leave the Fire Nation as a Prince in exile until he restored his honour. That the only way Ozai would welcome Zuko back was as the Avatar's captor.

5 days after that night, and Zuko was already antagonizing everyone and everything on the ship. Not even the steam pipes tolerated his aura of gloom - they broke right when Zuko was walking below and showered him in grit.

"Fuck!" he cursed now, sitting impatiently on his bed and waiting for the ship medic to confirm a lack of burns to the scalp. It seemed that as soon as his voice returned, he'd begun swearing. "Get the maintenance man to fix that fucking, fucking--"

"His name is Jia," Iroh cut in calmly, as he was doing a lot more these days. "And he has been called up."

"I don't care what his name is," said Zuko callously. "I just care that this ship doesn't kill me."

Iroh ignored his nephew's hyperbole. "You should care, Prince Zuko. Jia is a member of your crew. He is as committed to your cause as you are."

The medic was done checking the seething Zuko and had evaporated - she was brave, but not stupid. Zuko stood now without her there, taking long strides to his uncle. "I. Don't. Need. To. Know. His. Name."

The door burst open now, iron clanking loudly. In its frame stood a monster of a man, taller than Zuko by at least two heads, and carrying a lot more muscle on his frame as well. He took three giant steps inside. "Prince Zuko! I don't care if you are a prince. You're the most selfish guy I know!"

Zuko looked up at the man, not caring how big he was. This was dangerous, Iroh concluded. Zuko would barrel through the situation, without regard to the consequences. "I don't care what you think. Who are you, anyway?"

"Jia, you little mouth-off! Now you shape up that attitude of yours, or I bend it into shape for you."

Zuko's mouth quirked into a smirk. "Jia. Doesn't sound familiar," he said coolly. Now, he turned to Iroh. "Uncle, I'll be on the deck. I don't want to waste anymore time in here." He walked around Jia, each of his steps firm and resolute.

Jia sneered in contempt. "What's his deal?"

Iroh lowered his voice confidentially. "Prince Zuko has been ostracized."

Jia made that face that Iroh was by now very familiar with. "What's _ostracized_ mean?" he asked loudly.

Iroh froze. Zuko had definitely heard. Iroh expected the worst.

As he thought, a set of footsteps came back down the hall. Zuko stopped in the doorway, stepping just enough into the light of the room. He spoke slowly, the words slipping out from his mouth, which looked very small. "It means to be banished." And before Iroh could stop him, Zuko had ripped away the bandage and gauze that covered his left eye. The flesh around his eye was an ugly red, snarled over his cheekbone and stretching gracelessly over his eyelid. His eye was almost swollen shut. But his gaze challenged them to utter a word. "This," he said, "Is what it means."


	2. Speaking Is Not Communication

**ro-man-tic** _(adjective)_  
1. IMAGINARY  
2. VISIONARY  
3. having an imaginative or emotional appeal  
4. of, relating to, or having the characteristics of romanticism

--

Sitting alone with the Avatar was kind of nice, Zuko admitted to himself. It was restful. It was like sitting on the beach, listening to the waves shuffle sand back and forth, the sea breeze occasionally ruffling your hair.

Or maybe those _were_ the waves sloshing around, since they _were_ on the beach.

Anyways, the Avatar was quite quiet for a fellow with such a large mouth. It was like he wasn't even there. Unlike most people, who found silence unsettling and liked to trample it underfoot, Zuko reveled in silence. Perfect quiet was such a rare thing. Even if you plugged your ears, you could still hear your blood pulsing and the occasional creak of an unused joint.

Or maybe it was just the absence of talking he liked. He found that people spoke a lot without actually _saying_ something. He'd learned to pare down what he said. He liked every word to count. As his uncle Iroh had told him before, "speaking is not communication".

Now, he looked out over the dark ocean. The thought of Iroh dampened Zuko's mood. Where was he now? Zuko could only assume he was safe, perhaps with the members of the Order of the White Lotus. Zuko decided - when his father fell to the Avatar, Zuko would immediately search for his uncle. He needed Iroh. He couldn't properly rebuild his life without Iroh, or without his blessing. Before, Zuko had yearned hopelessly for Ozai's approval. Now, he knew it was Iroh's that would make him.

"What're you thinking about?"

Zuko craned his neck in the direction of the Avatar. There was no indication that it was he who had spoke. His eyes were closed and he was reclining atop a slab of rock he had earthbended earlier. If Zuko didn't know better, he would say it looked like the Avatar was sleeping.

Zuko's earlier disposition almost made him bark out _I'm not thinking_, but he forced it down. Though he had done his best to remake himself, some habits died hard. He didn't know if he could give a complete answer. So, he said instead, "What I'm gonna do after the war ends."

Now, the Avatar grinned widely and opened his eyes. They shone in the firelight. "Y'know what's funny? I was thinking about that, too."

Zuko felt honestly surprised. "What?" he said stupidly. The Avatar and him on the same wavelength? Eerie.

Despite this, the younger boy did not seem to catch Zuko's surprise. He took Zuko's comment as an invitation to expand. "Yeah. I was thinking about... Katara."

Zuko nodded, though by now the Avatar was looking up at the emerging stars.

He went on. "I don't know if you know, but I've liked her for awhile."

Zuko noticed that his sentences were short, cut off, as if he were holding back something he wanted to say. Odd, especially considering the fact that he'd gone on talking in the first place. Zuko's natural curiosity got the better of him. "I know." He hesitated. He was still new to their group, and he didn't want to overstep, but on the other hand... "What were you thinking about exactly?"

He lucked out. Instead of an odd look, the Avatar smiled at him. "Telling her that I like her. And what would happen if she liked me back."

Zuko examined the boy in front of the fire. It was odd. He would always be the Avatar to Zuko, but right now, he was more Aang than any other identity. Zuko almost shied away from this, but instead of blinking, he forced his eyes wide open to take this new boy in. "I can tell you like her a lot."

Aang almost blushed. "Yeah." Zuko's comment changed Aang's posture. He let a few thoughts loose. "I was thinking that maybe we could all live together after the war, maybe find our old house in Ba Sing Se. Sokka could never complain about the lack of meat again. And I'd see Katara everyday."

This new boy surprised Zuko. Who could know that he'd set his sights so far ahead? And that they'd be so devoid of adventure? "Wow. Isn't that a bit romantic?"

Aang did blush this time. "Really? I didn't think that living together was romantic."

Something dawned on Zuko. It was in the way Aang said _romantic_. "You know what I mean by romantic, right?"

The blush on Aang's cheeks faded slightly. It might've been a trick of light. But Zuko pushed forward, testing his limits with this different boy, this boy who wasn't the Avatar. He felt like a different person himself.

Aang opened his mouth and said exactly what Zuko expected. "Sure, you mean... like, love, right?"

Zuko was shaking his head before Aang had finished speaking. He hadn't expected to become so involved in this conversation. The previous silence of the evening was fast coming to resemble an illusion. "No. I meant romantic as in... too perfect. You know, idealistic."

Aang's blush was turning into a patchy sort of red. "What do you mean?" Zuko could practically hear the younger boy's heart plummeting. "You think she doesn't like me?"

He shook his head. "No, it's possible that she does. I was just thinking - won't there be more to do after the war ends? We can't just stop moving forward."

Aang looked utterly clueless. But then, Zuko realized, Aang had been thrust into this war, and it was hard enough for him to see all of its far-reaching reprecussions without mastering all four elements and running from potential captors. Zuko, with his three years at sea, then this most recent year, had imagined nearly every possible scenario that could emerge in the wake of the war. He felt certain that the war would continue on a smaller scale in many communities, for many generations. That the news may not even reach troops until months after their rulers resolved a ceasefire. There was only so much he could do as a former Fire Nation prince, and even then, he wasn't sure he was the person for the job. Undoubtedly, the person best suited to that role was the Avatar.

Zuko's gaze hardened as he looked into the fire. Aang and the Avatar could not be separated. He could not live two lives with two different sets of desires. He gave Aang a shorthand of what ran through his mind. "After the war ends, there will still be a lot of hatred and strife. The Avatar is the best person to soothe the injuries people have sustained."

Aang's face fell. "That's true, Zuko."

Zuko nodded.

"But..." Aang screwed up some of his courage. "Why can't I do both? Have fun with my friends and continue saving people? It can't be that hard. I've already learned all four elements in a few months," he joked weakly.

An unsettling sort of fury swept through Zuko. He didn't know why he felt this way, suddenly. "You can't! You're _the Avatar_. You have responsibilities." How could the Avatar be so careless? How could he romanticise the world when there was a _war_ going on?

The blue arrow tattooed on Aang's skin bent with his brow. "Yeah, I am. But I'm also just a kid, remember?"

Zuko's mouth bent itself into a dark line. "I remember. And I'm just a teenager."

Aang laughed. "Balance is the key. I've got to balance my Avatar-self and my normal kid-self. It'll work out." He held out his hands like he was a human scale.

Zuko looked up at the Avatar's-- Aang's face. He felt a bit doubtful, to be honest. But Aang seemed to believe that everything would turn out for the better as long as he harmonized properly with both sides of himself. And Zuko had even thought to himself earlier - _Aang and the Avatar cannot be separated_.

"So, what about you?" asked Aang now.

Hm. Good question. He'd overcome quite a lot of his own problems lately. He'd split himself into different personas, only to discover that he, _Zuko_, could not be separated into little fractions of the whole. With or against his will, the pieces came together eventually. And he had to admit, Whole Zuko was a much better person to be.

Maybe what Aang wanted wasn't so romantic, after all.

He must've waited too long to respond because Aang said, clarified, "What about you? What are you gonna do after the war ends?"

Zuko felt a smile forming on his lips. He said, "I'm going to find my uncle."

Aang seemed to think this was a good answer. He nodded firmly.

They were quiet again. But this time, they watched the waves together and Zuko found himself as a part of a companionable silence.

Sitting alone with Aang was kind of nice.


	3. I Guess We All Start Young

**meg-a-lo-ma-nia** _(noun)_  
**:** a mental disorder marked by feelings of personal omnipotence and grandeur

--

"You smell like komodo rhino turd!"

"You smell like _a hundred_ komodo rhino turds."

Ursa let out a very long sigh. When were they ever going to stop? It seemed like they'd be thirty before they could stop calling each other names.

"Zuko and Azula are at it again, I see," came a voice from the door.

Ursa started, her heart sprinting into doubletime. Her hand fluttered to her chest. "Oh, Iroh. Yes, they are."

Her brother-in-law strode into the room and sat in the one available chair.

She looked away from her children playfighting (and a little bit real fighting) to Iroh. "When did you get back, Iroh?"

Iroh's entire face eased into a smile. Ursa never called him General Iroh, just like he never called her Princess Ursa. Some people could exist outside their usual roles, and Ursa and Iroh were two of them. "Just now. And then I leave for Ba Sing Se in three days," he sighed forlornly.

Ursa's mouth tweaked, just as it always did when the details of the war were revealed to her. Iroh knew her feelings, she was certain. But she would do him no disrespect by mentioning her dislike of his particular role in the war. She looked out to the green, where Azula was now running on swift feet from Zuko. Zuko was quick, too, and they frequently fell to the ground in some tangle of thrashing limbs. Their fighting had definitely escalated.

"You're as ugly as a vulture griffin!" Jab.

"You're as ugly as a badger frog!" Punch.

Ursa turned her fatigued gaze on Iroh, and all he could do was laugh. "At least they are using proper grammar."

She couldn't help but smile. "Yes, thank Agni for that." Now, she stood and called out, "Zuko! Azula! Come inside and say hello to your uncle Iroh!"

Zuko dashed inside immediately. For some reason, Ursa found it comforting that Zuko liked Iroh so much.

Azula came in soon after. "Snail sloth," Zuko tossed over his shoulder.

Azula retaliated, "Cow hippo."

"Children!" exclaimed Iroh. "Zuko, Azula. It is so lovely to see you. You would not believe how desperate your uncle became to see a pretty face after so many days on the front."

Azula grinned, still young enough to appreciate her uncle's flattery. Zuko's mouth almost opened to say something wicked, but he caught his mother's Look and kept it shut.

"You both seem to know of an impressive amount of animals," said Iroh calmly.

Zuko nearly jumped, eager to tell his uncle about his latest project. "I learned all about dragons!"

Iroh's expression became decidedly melancholy. He spoke with a quiet reverance. "Ah, yes. Dragons. The first true firebenders."

Before Zuko could ask a question, as he undoubtedly would, Azula interjected, "I learned about vipers! They're _so cool_."

"Vipers? Are you sure? Not rat vipers?"

Azula shook her head.

"Not hopping vipers?"

Azula shooked her head fiercely, having little patience. She laughed once, loudly, "No! Just vipers!" She thwacked Iroh's knee.

"Hm! Well," Iroh began, giving every estimation of his being impressed, "that's all very well and good, but what other subjects are you excelling in?"

Ursa watched, wondering where Iroh was going with this. Her brother-in-law almost always had a purpose in mind, small or large.

"My teacher says I'm the best at mathematics," Azula was quick to boast.

Iroh cast his gaze upon Zuko. "What about you, Zuko?"

Azula answered for him, "Cow hippo is good at art." She mocked the word _art_, like prowess in drawing was on par with being diseased, or on fire.

Iroh only raised his eyebrows in Ursa's direction, who made a face that said _I'll tell you about it later_. He then looked down at his spitfire little niece. "That's great! You know, math was your father's best subject. And art and geography were mine!"

Azula just nodded. Zuko looked up now, something akin to hope alit on his face.

"But," Iroh said now, "what about language arts?"

Azula scoffed in the way an unimpressed teenager might. "It's stupid," she told him. Something about the way she said it made him believe that she wasn't very good at it.

Iroh looked horrified. "Language arts is not stupid, Azula!" Were she younger, he'd have pulled her into his lap. But she'd stopped tolerating that. "Language arts is very valuable! You know--" he paused and looked thoughtful. "Never mind," he said, "you don't want to know."

Azula practically leapt at Iroh. "Tell me! Tell me, uncle Iroh!"

Zuko looked over, intrigued as well, but not wanting to let on.

Now, Iroh leaned down, and motioned for Zuko to come closer. When he did, Azula didn't even jostle him or put up a fight.

"You learn tons of new words," Iroh said, his voice in majestic story-teller mode, "Even new words that other people may not know."

"Even you, uncle?" Zuko whispered back.

"Even me," affirmed Iroh.

Azula stood by, still seeming unimpressed.

Zuko was full of life. He sprang up and onto his toes. "Mom! I'm going to the library!"

Ursa inclined her head. "Okay."

And Zuko took off.

--

It started the next day.

"You're a vapid swine!" hollered Zuko's voice from the gardens.

_Who_ was a vapid _what?_ Ursa hefted up her heavy robes from her feet and walked briskly in the direction of her son's voice.

The first thing she saw was Azula whirling and throwing punches like a very agressive bully. The second thing she saw was Zuko, dodging every one. They'd have to remanicure the lawn.

"You stink!" growled Azula.

"You're feebleminded," said Zuko, impervious to her insult.

The third thing she saw was Iroh sitting and watching her children, a teacup to his lips.

"How long have they been at it?" she asked him surreptitiously. She pulled out the second chair and sat down.

Iroh began pouring her a cup of tea. "Oh, I'd say about twenty minutes. You know, they both have amazing endurance."

Ursa only grimaced. This was clearly not her top concern right now. "What did Zuko call Azula?" she asked, feeling a little odd, like she might guiltily fidget in her seat.

Iroh said serenely, "Feebleminded."

"Before that?"

"Vapid swine."

She hazarded a guess. "Before that?"

"Repulsive vermin."

"Oh, Agni," she muttered, her face in her hands.

Iroh only hummed tunelessly, content with his ginseng.

How did these words suddenly pop into Zuko's vocabulary? He was just a kid! They weren't even words people used that often. They were words that lived permanently in dictionaries and thesauruses, holed up in the...

It came to her. "Library," she whispered. She turned on Iroh instantly. "You!"

Iroh looked up at his sister-in-law as if waking from a dream. "What is it?"

"Was this your plan? To replace all the animal insults with _thesaurus words?_"

Iroh couldn't conceal the slightly sheepish look that arose on his face. The heat of his tea brought a blush to his face. "Well, they are a lot more sophisticated insults, wouldn't you agree? He is expanding his vocabulary."

"Stupid! Get back here!" roared Azula.

"Churl!" taunted Zuko.

Ursa's expression was positively stony.

Iroh smiled beseechingly.

"Stop it!" whined Azula.

"Get a dictionary, then, megalomaniac!" challenged Zuko.

"Fine! _I will!_" yelled Azula. She stormed past Ursa and Iroh.

Zuko walked up to his mother and uncle, a self-satisfied grin on his face. Despite the workout, he wasn't even winded. "Thanks, uncle Iroh!" he chirped.

"You're welcome, my nephew," said Iroh, sounding pleased. He toned down his smile at Ursa's glare.

"So," Zuko said now, not noticing the dark look his mother sported, "What was fighting the dragons like?"

Iroh put a finger to his chin. "Very difficult. Their firebending techniques are astounding."

"Wow," said Zuko, in awe. Then, he straightened and stood almost at attention, like a soldier. "Astounding. Adjective. Causing astonishment, amazing." Then he gave a toothy smile.

Iroh was instantly impressed. He looked over at Ursa, who seemed to be softening. Her shoulders were not so close to her ears anymore.

Then, Azula burst in. "Megalomania. Noun. An obsession with doing extravagant or grand things," she recited from the thick book in her hands. It seemed to be the _M-N_ section of their dictionary volumes. She looked at her brother through half-lidded eyes. "I don't see how that's so bad."

Zuko just raised an eyebrow. He looked at Iroh and Ursa, whose eyebrows were already raised. He whispered to them, "Just wait 'til she reads the other definitions."


	4. Love Song: A Duet

Warnings: Zuko/Jin.

-

**atyp-i-cal** _(adjective)_  
1. not typical: IRREGULAR  
2. DISTINCT  
3. UNUSUAL, SPECIAL

-

"You're atypical," he told her.

She looked questioningly at him, those big eyes narrowing. Then she laughed. "I'm what?" she said.

He'd explain. He thought for a second. He brought the tea she'd made earlier to his lips. His uncle would approve. "I knew this girl, Mai," he said.

"Old girlfriend?" she joshed, knowing it was true.

He gave a tiny nod, not wanting to linger. "She could never make tea like this. She probably couldn't even boil the water right."

She leaned on the counter across from him and idly examined his face. He had a very nice face, she thought. "Well, I grew up learning how to cook. It's practically in my blood." She went on looking at him, her eyes following the curve of his cheekbone.

He hardly noticed her scrutiny. He went on. "I knew this girl, Ty Lee--"

"Old girlfriend?" she interjected seamlessly, now looking at his ears.

He shook his head no, continuing, "She was happy, but a little more clueless."

"Ignorance is bliss for some," she replied. "But I read the newspaper."

"My sister," he said now, wincing slightly at her memory, "was so determined, and her heartlessness only helped her reach her goals."

Her eyes trailed over his jawline. "It's possible to have one without the other. What can I say? I'm determined to get you."

She flustered him. He covered his blush and thought harder, wracking his brain. His gaze swept over the room. "There was this girl, Katara-- not an old girlfriend," he said quickly, before she could say so.

She smiled, nodded, and looked at his rumpled hair. She liked it best that way.

"She gave me a second chance after I crossed her," he said, words spilling wildly from his mouth. He had such a nice mouth. "But it took awhile. I had to work to earn that chance."

She leaned forward a little and shrugged. "Forgive but don't forget: that's my motto. Plus, you're cute. It was easy to give you another chance." She smiled with her eyes. Flirting.

He mentally stuttered. He tried to think. He blurted, "There's another girl!"

She gave him a frowning smile. "_Another one?_ She better be a childhood friend."

"Better," he spoke quickly. "She was a champion wrestler. Her name was Toph."

She let her chin rest in the palm of her hand. She watched his brow furrow.

"She wouldn't travel with me for no reason. She wouldn't stick around for a maybe."

She looked into his eyes and clapped her own down on his firmly. She held him there. "Then, I guess you're just lucky."

His eyes blinked wide. They were magnificent eyes, really. A lovely gold, light and sharp, the colour of her favourite tea, left to steep for the perfect amount of time. Now, this colour held _her_, as he leaned towards her across the counter.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I guess I am."

And it was then that Zuko kissed her, and Jin felt an overwhelming happiness knowing that she _was_ different, and he wanted her.


	5. In Which Zuko's Pants Are Used As Tissue

Warnings: Zuko/Toph friendship.

--

**per-spec-tive** _(noun)_  
1. the science of painting and drawing so that objects represented have apparent depth and distance  
2. the aspect in which a subject or its parts are mentally viewed; _especially_: a view of things (as objects or events) in their true relationship or relative importance

--

His companion was frowning. He supposed there was nothing new about that.

"This sucks," she announced to the marketplace. Some bystanders actually paused in their actions to look at them.

Zuko, less than bothered by the attention, chose to respond to her instead. "Sorry I'm such a drag to hang out with," he said, his tone mildly biting.

"Not that!" she said loudly again, as if disappointed that he didn't understand. "Why did everyone else get such good field trips with you? Why did I get boring searching for Aang, and now, stupid grocery shopping?" she said _grocery shopping_ with so much scorn that Zuko considered laughing.

He didn't often feel the need to cheer people up. But he identified with Toph on some level that he had yet to name, so he made an effort. "I think we'll have a good field trip one of these days."

She crossed her arms behind her head, her elbows sticking straight up in the air. "Huh. Are you saying we'll stay friends, even though you're a big Fire Lord now? That was almost mushy, Princess."

Zuko laughed gallantly, considering the fact that she'd called him Princess.

She went on. "Why did they send _us_ out? I'm blind. And you couldn't cook food to save your life, much less pick it out."

He felt affronted. "Who says?"

Toph just leveled a stare at him. For a blind girl, she sure knew how to communicate with her eyes.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, you're right," he admitted. "But we have a list," he said a tad triumphantly, pulling it out of his pocket.

"Which I can't read!" she exclaimed sarcastically. "Great."

"That's my job," he said matter-of-factly. He looked down at the long list in his hand. It was jam-packed full of nonsensical things like flying lemur treats and seal jerky. Did they honestly expect Zuko and Toph to find these things in the Fire Nation?

It was then that something came flying at his knees, almost knocking him over. A raised piece of earth, courtesy of Toph, helped prop him up. ("I expected better reflexes from you, Princess.") Looking away from the grocery list, he saw that the thing was, in fact, a little girl.

She was sobbing into the thigh of his pants and blubbering things he couldn't understand. Her hot tears came quickly, soaking the cotton of his pants in record time.

He didn't know what to do! She was so little. He couldn't understand a word she was saying.

He kept his hands carefully away from her, but asked, "What's wrong?"

She jerked her hand up and pointed down the street. "Them!" she cried. He followed her finger to a group of boys around the same age as she. "They called me ugly!"

Oh, dear. He was not one to offer condolences, unless she found "get over it" or "I'll burn them for you" comforting. Somehow, he doubted either would yield the effects he desired.

Surprisingly, it was Toph who bent down to kneel next to the girl. "Hey, you don't have to listen to them," she said. Her tone was surprisingly serious, tempered by an unexpected amount of maturity. The girl looked up and through her tears into Toph's blind eyes.

"People will say things. But you can choose whether or not to believe them."

"And it all depends on your perspective," Zuko added, surprising himself a little, inspired by Toph's not-quite tough love. "What is ugly to some people might be beautiful to others."

Toph shifted her weight towards him. He supposed this was what she did in place of looking people in the eyes. "Like Zuko here," she said, jabbing a thumb in his direction, "How does he look to you?"

The girl looked up at him, her giant, slightly-less-watery eyes focusing instantly on his scar. Then her eyes went elsewhere. "Strong," she said. She took her job very seriously.

"Well, those boys seem to think he looks _cool_," Toph said now, drawing the little girl's attention to the gaggle of boys gaping at Zuko. Bald admiration graced each of their faces. The little girl caught a bit of jealousy from them, too. How did she know this cool guy and they didn't? She flushed with a bit of pleasure. She looked up at both Zuko and Toph.

"And me? Well, I think he looks a bit goofy," - the girl giggled and Zuko scowled - "but that's only what I think."

Zuko bent down and the girl let go of his soaked pants. Now, he let his hands find her upper arms and keep a gentle hold. "Are you going to let them change your mind?"

The girl shook her head no.

"Are you going to let _her_," - he eyed Toph - "change your mind?"

The girl laughed and shook her head again.

Zuko gave her a rare smile and a firm nod. The little girl looked up at Toph. Zuko gave Toph's leg a poke, and Toph knew to say, "Go get 'em!"

The girl rocketed off. They watched her sprint like a mini-gazelle. Zuko was silently glad she wasn't still holding his pants when she'd run off.

"Well, Princess," Toph said now, standing up and walking, "who knew you'd be so good with kids?"

Zuko stood and walked slightly behind her. "I could say the same for you."

Toph shrugged and spit, barely missing a pigeon. It flapped its wings and lost a few feathers, but was fine, otherwise.

"So," he said, making it a point to look at her, even though she didn't know it, "you think I look goofy?"

Toph snorted. "I can't _see_, in case you forgot."

He spotted a cart selling jerkies out of the corner of his eye and chose to ignore it. "But you've gotta have an idea of what I look like. Do you see me as goofy in your mind's eye?"

She drew her eyebrows down over her eyes. "Are you torturing me?"

He almost snorted. He most definitely was, but she didn't need to know. He would've felt cruel, playing on her lack of sight this way, except she was in no way a victim. Her particular brand of forwardness and honesty brought out something in him, what could he say?

_And_ she'd made fun of him first.

"You are," she confirmed. "I can feel you trying not to laugh."

"Well, do you?" he pushed.

"No, doofus," she said. Zuko could tell she was trying to act like she was mad, but her tiny bit of a smile said otherwise. "I couldn't care less what you look like."

"You've got it in perspective," he said. Then he set off in the direction of the seal jerky.

Toph's smile made it into her voice. She followed after him. "Sure, Princess."


End file.
